


Scars

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Series: Merlin Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Most of the time, Merlin was fine.  Sure, it took him a while to get going on rainy mornings and he was definitely grateful that Gaius had given him a healing potion that he could rub on his scars and sore joints to keep them from getting tight and swollen, but there was nothing more than he could handle.  Sometimes it was a little tough to get going when he was out on patrol or questing and had nothing but his thin bedroll between him and the ground.  But he was fine.  He could handle it.  He wasn’t weak or feminine or any of the insults Arthur tried to throw at him.He was fine.  He was always fine.  He would always be fine.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Tumblr Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/825078
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ApprenticedMagician](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApprenticedMagician/gifts).



> Written as a Tumblr fic for the prompt: “It still hurts…” - Merlin has enough scars caused by magic that I'm sure he doesn't go day-to-day without suffering for his interference. ='((

Most of the time, Merlin was fine. Sure, it took him a while to get going on rainy mornings and he was definitely grateful that Gaius had given him a healing potion that he could rub on his scars and sore joints to keep them from getting tight and swollen, but there was nothing more than he could handle. Sometimes it was a little tough to get going when he was out on patrol or questing and had nothing but his thin bedroll between him and the ground. But he was fine. He could handle it. He wasn’t weak or feminine or any of the insults Arthur tried to throw at him.

He was fine. He was always fine. He would always be fine. He chanted this to himself even as his muscles locked into thick ropes of agony and the metal shackles bit into the scar tissue at his wrists. He was infinitely glad that he wasn’t walking as the slice on his thigh from the last group of bandits had only just sealed and the new skin was still too fragile to remain intact if he didn’t baby it. It definitely wasn’t fun to be hanging over the side of a wagon like a piece of meat but it was so much better than forcing himself to limp on the healing muscle and he really hated being dragged by his wrists. These people looked like the type to keep going even when their prisoners fell.

He couldn’t help feeling just a little jealous of Arthur, who was sitting upright with his wrists tied to the saddle of a horse. He was too valuable to damage just yet. Merlin supposed he could be grateful that he hadn’t been left behind with the others. Arthur had stepped in and promised that he would go quietly if they spared Merlin and the leader of the bandits had instantly seen his potential as leverage for the prince’s cooperation. 

By the time they stopped, hours after nightfall, Merlin wasn’t sure if he could move on his own power. He collapsed to the ground and couldn’t even resist when they dragged him to the nearest tree and tied his arms tight around it.

“If he dies, I will rain vengeance down on you,” Arthur vowed as he struggled to get to Merlin.

“Oh, he’ll survive,” the leader of the bandits laughed. “But you didn’t bargain for his good treatment. If you fight me, he’ll regret it.”

Arthur stopped fighting immediately and allowed himself to be tied to the same tree. The bandits left them then, focused on celebrating their big score, prematurely looking forward to the ransom they’ll get from Arthur. Arthur scooted over until he was right beside Merlin. Merlin sighed and leaned into the king’s side, leeching warmth from him.

“I didn’t come over here for a snuggle,” Arthur chided him but did not move away.

“It’s freezing out here,” Merlin admitted, trying to shift even closer.

“Well maybe if you wore more clothing than that threadbare jacket and your stupid neck thing,” Arthur said.

“My scarf isn’t stupid,” Merlin raised his voice a little. One of the men at the fire glanced their way and Arthur drove his elbow sharply into Merlin’s side. Merlin shut up with a wheeze and glared at Arthur.

“Shut up, idiot. Try to look less like we’re plotting,” Arthur said quietly.

“Maybe if you stopped hitting me,” Merlin grumbled.

Arthur sighed loudly and lapsed into silence, watching the men around the fire.

“You said we’re plotting, do you have a plan?” Merlin finally asked.

“Yeah, these men are incredibly stupid. I’m going to wait for them to get drunk and fall asleep, get out of the ropes and then we’re running for it,” Arthur whispered.

“Simple, I like it,” Merlin said, and he leaned his head over on Arthur’s shoulder and rested his eyes.

Arthur roused him an indeterminate time later with yet another elbow to the gut. “They’re out. Let’s go.”

Arthur had been working on the ropes the whole time and it took mere minutes for them to escape their bindings. The first flaw in their plan came when Merlin took his first step. He stumbled, only a tooth in his lip keeping him from crying out in pain. His entire thigh muscle was locked up. He could barely move it.

“Merlin? What’s wrong?” Arthur’s voice broke through the haze of pain.

“My leg,” he gasped, “from Caldwell and his men.”

“I thought that was on the mend,” Arthur frowned, pulling Merlin’s arm over his shoulder and beginning to drag him away.

“It still hurts,” Merlin moaned. “And being tied up for hours didn’t help.”

Arthur hiked Merlin up and tried to increase their pace. “Can you bear it?”

“I’ll do my best,” Merlin said, choking back a groan.

They weren’t moving fast enough. Merlin knew it. “Arthur, you should leave me,” he said after far too many agonizing steps.

“Don’t be stupid, Merlin, I’m not going to leave you,” Arthur kept dragging him along.

“I can’t run. They’re going to wake up. We’re making a trail a blind man could follow. If you don’t leave me, we’ll be right back where we started,” Merlin said.

“And if they find you without me, they’ll kill you and keep chasing me. I’m not going to let that happen,” Arthur said.

And behind them, they could hear the shouts of men in the camp as their absence was discovered.

“Boost me up into that tree,” Merlin said. “It’s dark enough they won’t see me. Run ahead and find help.”

“Merlin,” Arthur protested.

“Quick, before they get too close and they see me hiding,” Merlin looked at Arthur. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

Arthur looked as if he was going to argue again but he changed his mind, boosting Merlin up into one of the lower branches. “Can you climb?”

Merlin nodded. “Go, get help.”

And Arthur was off, running as if his life depended on it.

Merlin considered climbing higher but the screaming in his thigh put an end to that notion. He didn’t need to hide anyway. He wasn’t letting any of the men get past him to chase Arthur down. He looked and erased the path that Arthur had made as he fled and created another leading off in a different direction. Then he muttered a spell to keep himself hidden and waited for Arthur to return with reinforcements.

Light was dawning when Merlin heard voices again. He listened carefully and didn’t release his glamour until he heard Percy’s voice calling his name. “I’m here,” he called. A small search party rushed over to his tree and Merlin practically fell into Percy’s arms. His eyes closed as he rejoiced in the thought of being warm again.

“Just curious, Merlin, are you going to make Percival carry you like a fainting princess all the way back to Camelot?” Arthur’s voice interrupted his relief.

Merlin opened his eyes and looked at Arthur. He was exhausted and relief was visible in his eyes. Then he looked at the horse and thought about stretching his wounded thigh by trying to ride in a saddle. “Definitely,” he said, closing his eyes again and snuggling into Percival’s warm chest. He deserved this.


End file.
